


Cold

by WulfKry



Series: Cold, Unbearable Cold [1]
Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Self Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Tom is a Sad Bean, a very sad bean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 07:20:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8195743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WulfKry/pseuds/WulfKry
Summary: Crying, afraid, nervous.
Depressed, paranoid, axious.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm uploading this at 1 am be warned there may be typos

Whenever he was nervous he went to numbers- the number of breathes, the number of planks, the number of scars. He's not sure why, Edd and Matt never did this- or at the very least not out loud.

He doesn't know why he's nervous either. He can't remember anything causing it- maybe it was how Edd ran out of cola (a thing to behold honestly) or maybe it was how Matt wasn't admiring himself that day. 

Except it wasn't either of those- though they certainly didn't help. It was something about the date he's certain. He couldn't remember for the life of him. Maybe he should look at the calendar.

He feels cold. Except it's a relatively warm March day and he's in a nest of his blankets- he should be anything but. However he still feels it, cold and freezing, an unwelcoming temperature he wishes to get rid off.

He looks to his left- the nightstand with bottles of green apple vodka- Smirnoff, his favourite- within and on top the piece of furniture. All empty. When did he drink them? Didn't he restock them last night. He doesn't feel the buzz of alcohol flowing through his veins nor the warmth of the comforting tipsy feeling.

He's not nervous, he realizes. This is a different feeling- one that makes him nervous, but it's surely not the main thing here. It's why he's cold, why he's run out of booze already. Why he's sober and wishing for one last drink.

He's afraid.

Looking above the nightstand his gaze washes over the calendar. It is indeed March. 2017. The sixt-

Right.

It's only been a year.

That's why. He's afraid and nervous because he's a horrible person. He's made is another year yet t-

No. Not his name. Never again.

He'll start crying again.

He knows he doesn't have the right to. It's been a year he made it and He didn't. Edd tells him it's not his fault. He blew up the house, He hurt Edd and Matt.

He killed Jon.

But he killed Him.

He's a murderer- a monster hiding in a blue hoodie who shot the harpoon straight through the chest, killing to-

No.

He's crying again.

He doesn't deserve it.

He's cold and he's counting the numbers- this time the seconds. Maybe he's trying to see how long it'll take for him to get up and grab a bottle from the kitchen. It doesn't take him long. Two Hundred and twenty-eight seconds later and he's hoisting himself up.

He walks out- slow and careful, cautious to avoid his green hooded friend or his self-obsessed one. They don't need to see him like this. Cold and counting out loud.

Crying, afraid, nervous.

Depressed, paranoid, anxious.

He's a broken man who can't live without a drink to warm him up.

 

\--

 

Later in the night he tries to think. But he's drunk and when he's drunk he doesn't think- doesn't think about anything. When he's sober he supposed he prefers this. Not thinking means he won't cry, he's not afraid or nervous.

However he doesn't think things through. He more broken, finds it more easy to do... things. Things that when he's sober he'd find it harder to do.

He pulls out the knife, digs a little deeper then the last time. He prefers his legs, he's not sure why- just like he's not sure why drinking makes him warm when nothing else does- but he continues. He cleans himself up, takes good care of the wounds.

He wakes thinking and regretting. Feeling even more colder then before.

He fears sometime- he may dig to deep.

And so he grows colder.

 

\--

 

He never sees Edd and Matt. And when he does he acts normal- like nothing's happening, nothing's wrong. Though he fears that Edd is suspicious. Every time Edd visits he stays a little longer than the last time. It reminds him of how every time the wounds are deeper. He tries to avoid that thought.

Before Edd leaves he casts a wistful look at him. A cautious one, a worrying one. He realizes that Edd fears as well, but different things for different reasons.

He realizes he fears Edd too- and Edd grows cold to him, his touch freezing to the alcoholic. And now he drinks after every visit that always last a little longer. And now he finds longer and deeper wounds in the mornings.

And so he fears.

 

\--

 

It's a year later, two years after when He came back. Two years after Tom killed Him. Six months after he decided. Ten minutes after he became warm again. Ten minutes after he stopped thinking. Five seconds until presses too deep.

There's a knock at his door. He doesn't know why- doesn't think about it. Before he'd put up a 'do not disturb' sign on his front door.

He doesn't think when he hears the creak of the door opening.

Doesn't think when he puts the knife to his thigh.

Doesn't think when he hears a gasp- and an all too familiar red hoodie pulls the knife from out of his hand.

Doesn't think when He pulls him into his arms- warm- and cries on his shoulders.

He counts the tears that fall on his thighs and the seconds he was from pressing down.

5

 

\--

 

When he wakes up he's cold. Freezing, shivering, pushed towards the warmest thing he's ever known. A red hood that's all too familiar and all too worn to be real.

He presses his hands against the fabric, against the man wearing it.

Tord is warm, a comfort to his freezing body. He curls up tighter against him, desperate for every ounce he can get. He's asleep in seconds.

 

\--

 

When he wakes up once more that day the sun is setting and he's in his own apartment. He's also alone. And so he fears he dreamt Tord up- and so he grows even colder.

He decides to grab a bottle, shuffles to the living room where the smells of bacon drafts from the kitchen. He thinks Edd might be home, despite the fact that he's away with Matt on some cruise they won.

Walking to the couch he turns to the t.v.- flashing it on and to the news. It's 6:32 in the afternoon. 17th of March.

He turns to the kitchen- the man whistling out of sight but in range of hearing. He slowly creeps to the room- the smell getting stronger.

He fears he's hallucinating, he grows colder, steps closer.

He's afraid of what he'll find, he's even colder, another step.

He's afraid of who he'll find, he wonders if the world froze overnight, a step.

He's afraid.

He's cold.

One last step.

 

\--

 

Tord wasn't sure what to think. He was afraid yes- afraid he'd been too late, that Tom was dead and he'd never wake from his frighteningly still slumber. But he hears the television turn on, the ruffling of blankets. He no longer fears that outcome.

He begins to whistle, once again focusing on his task. He'd rather not burn the bacon. He hears the shuffling again- this time closer, slower. Tom must smell the food, he was always hungry after long and well needed sleep, could still be tired as well.

He hears the shuffling stop, and begins to wonder why Tom stopped, he is hungry, right? He's got to be.

He finishes the bacon and places the pieces into different plates. Finally turns to look at Tom.

He's tired, looks like it anyways. He seems... afraid? Nervous definitely, he's counting out loud like he does. He wonders what Tom's counting.

 

"Tom? You needn't stand there, come get your food! I'm not carrying it for you now that you're awake."

 

He questions if he should be this casual with him, considering last night’s events.

He turns back to the food, giving an opportunity for Tom to grab a plate but nothing happens. He glances at the alcoholic again, walking towards the man until he stands in front of him.

 

"Tom?"

 

\--

 

Tom seemingly shifts his gaze to the Norwegian. Afraid if he looks away for even a second he will disappear. He grows cold.

Tord reaches a hand out towards the black eyed man, confusion running deep in his thoughts. Concern clouding his features.

 

"Tom are you alright?"

 

Tom grabs the Norsk's hand, a look of disbelief floods his face.

 

"Are- are you real?"

 

Tom's never hallucinated before, however he doesn't doubt the possibility that he could be. He rubs Tord's hand. It's warm, a stark contrast to the cold Tom's grown accustomed to. He pulls the hand closer to him, rests his face against it. It's a nice feeling against his cold skin.

 

"Of course Tom... Why wouldn't I be?"

 

Tord is more concerned now then ever, had Tom hallucinated him before? If so this was far worse then he thought. He was taken aback when the Brit put his hand to his face- a look of content replacing the confused one.

 

"Tom are you alright?"

 

He asks the question again- hoping for a different answer than the one before.

Tom opens his eyes- gaze meeting Tord's. He smiles, something he hasn't done in a long while, it’s a weak thing but a smile nonetheless. Suddenly he's pulling Tord into him. Hugging him and wrapping his arms around him.

Tord is surprised, but hugs the blue hooded man. He's beyond confused. Though he supposes this is a better situation than the night before.

Tom pulls away from Tord, already missing his warmth. He has a thought, one he tosses around for a bit, one that makes him just a little bit afraid. The cold is already trying to seep back into him. But Tom doesn't want the cold- wants the warmth Tord brings, the feeling of being safe and not afraid. So he throws caution to the wind.

For a moment he feels as if he will never know what it is to be warm.

The next he's pressing his lips to Tord's as warmth explodes into him.

**Author's Note:**

> Yo first fanfic yay. Idk how long it is- I tried to make it long but who knows man. Hope yo fuckos enjoyed it.
> 
> Also my tumblr is @  
> Rock-candy-and-stratus-clouds.tumblr.com if you wanna send in doe. Fic requests


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